The End (Day 19)

Looking back what you were thinking

When we climbed into your nana’s attic

And you kicked the ladder out

From underneath our feet.

Looking back you said

That was the point

And we should have

Somewhere more private.

Somewhere where the dust

Felt more than a apologsy

For being forgotten in time.

Somewhere where the fragmented sun

Would feel like it

Was permanently blinking.

Somewhere interesting

Where we could dribble coke

Over the top of the world,

Crunch biscuits

Into its spine

And sugar plum cakes

At it’s heart

As we celebrated the end

Of our childhood.